From Lovesick Fool to Legend

From Lovesick Fool to Legend

Gavin

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The Texas sun beat down on the sprawling ranch, but nothing could dim the radiant joy of my wedding day. Hundreds of guests watched, fanning themselves, as I stood at the altar, eyes fixed on Savannah, my vision in white lace. This was it, the culmination of my dreams, the moment our lives would begin. When the pastor said, "You may now kiss the bride," my heart pounded with anticipation. But Savannah turned her head, her gaze sweeping past me to land on Cody, her "Man of Honor" in a suit I had paid for. In front of everyone, she walked to him, put her hands on his face, and gave him a long, passionate kiss. A collective gasp rippled through the stunned crowd, followed by a thick, suffocating silence. My father's face was stone, my best friend Tyler looked ready to erupt. She pulled away, breathless, then casually announced, "Cody' s never going to get married; he just wanted to know what it felt like. It was our pact. A childhood thing." Her dismissive tone, Cody's smirking triumph over her shoulder, snapped something inside me. The woman I poured my heart and fortune into had just publicly shamed me, reducing our sacred vows to a casual 'joke.' It was an act of betrayal so profound, so brazen, that it transcended mere heartbreak. How could someone so close inflict such calculated cruelty, expecting no consequence? The utter absurdity of her explanation, the depth of her entitlement, filled me not with rage, but with an icy clarity. I calmly took the microphone from the pastor' s hand, my voice steady, carrying across the silent ranch. "Apologies everyone," I said, "The party' s not over, but the wedding is." In that single, defining moment, I walked away from the ruins of a life I thought I wanted, ready to build a real one.

Introduction

The Texas sun beat down on the sprawling ranch, but nothing could dim the radiant joy of my wedding day.

Hundreds of guests watched, fanning themselves, as I stood at the altar, eyes fixed on Savannah, my vision in white lace.

This was it, the culmination of my dreams, the moment our lives would begin.

When the pastor said, "You may now kiss the bride," my heart pounded with anticipation.

But Savannah turned her head, her gaze sweeping past me to land on Cody, her "Man of Honor" in a suit I had paid for.

In front of everyone, she walked to him, put her hands on his face, and gave him a long, passionate kiss.

A collective gasp rippled through the stunned crowd, followed by a thick, suffocating silence.

My father's face was stone, my best friend Tyler looked ready to erupt.

She pulled away, breathless, then casually announced, "Cody' s never going to get married; he just wanted to know what it felt like. It was our pact. A childhood thing."

Her dismissive tone, Cody's smirking triumph over her shoulder, snapped something inside me.

The woman I poured my heart and fortune into had just publicly shamed me, reducing our sacred vows to a casual 'joke.'

It was an act of betrayal so profound, so brazen, that it transcended mere heartbreak.

How could someone so close inflict such calculated cruelty, expecting no consequence?

The utter absurdity of her explanation, the depth of her entitlement, filled me not with rage, but with an icy clarity.

I calmly took the microphone from the pastor' s hand, my voice steady, carrying across the silent ranch.

"Apologies everyone," I said, "The party' s not over, but the wedding is."

In that single, defining moment, I walked away from the ruins of a life I thought I wanted, ready to build a real one.

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Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

Mafia

4.3

I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.

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